


Darker Side

by RulerOfTravels



Category: Star Wars Legends: Force Unleashed - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 14:37:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RulerOfTravels/pseuds/RulerOfTravels
Summary: Post-SWFU2 (Dark Side Ending). Starkiller wonders if Vader might have had relations with the Galen clone. Vader denies it, but Starkiller pushes, and Vader loses his temper. The game begins.
Relationships: Starkiller/Darth Vader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this story is rated NC-17, for language, violence, graphic sexual content, and ideologically sensitive material. this story warps the canon of SWFU2 in ways it probably shouldn't be warped. The Force will be used in rather creative ways. also, lightsaber hilts. So YOU'VE BEEN WARNED! if you are not a legal adult in your country, or if you are but you just don't like slash/gay/yaoi content (and keep in mind this fic might be considered hardcore. If you only like nicey-nice slash, this ain’t it), PLEASE, FOR FORCE'S SAKE, stop reading this fanfic right now. thank you kindly~
> 
> Author’s Note: so, yes, this fic had to happen… i can’t really find any starkiller/vader fics or art anywhere (if you have any sources, TELL ME, I NEED THEM), so I made my own contribution.  
I’d like to dedicate this fic to Raythe. They’ll probably never know it exists... but I’d like to give a shout-out. their Star Wars writing from way back in the day was very inspirational for me, and if you read Forbidden (like i did, about 20 times, oops?), you might notice that i’m lightly using some of their theories/styles about the uses and nature of the Force in this fic. couldn’t help myself!  
enjoy.
> 
> Title: Darker Side
> 
> Author: ruleroftravels
> 
> Fandom: Star Wars: The Force Unleashed II (video game)
> 
> Pairing: Vader/Starkiller
> 
> Summary: Post-SWFU2 (Dark Side Ending). Starkiller wonders if Vader might have had relations with the Galen clone. Vader denies it, but Starkiller pushes, and Vader loses his temper. The game begins.
> 
> Warnings: M/M, Anal, Angst, Handjob, Humiliation, Oral, Roleplay, Torture, Toys, Violence.
> 
> SPOILER ALERT: Please do not read this fanfiction if you do not want to know major spoilers for Star Wars: The Force Unleashed II.
> 
> Prerequisite (CONTAINS SPOILERS): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXtr8QKdgMw
> 
> (Star Wars Force Unleashed 2: Dark Side Ending)
> 
> Disclaimer: Star Wars characters, themes, and concepts belong to Lucasarts and Lucasfilm. No money is being made off of this fanfiction. The author of this fanfiction is in no way affiliated with Lucasarts, Lucasfilm, or the Star Wars franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**DARKER SIDE**

* * *

Starkiller pulled back the black hood of his cloak. His glowing amber eyes stared down at the clone. It lay in the rain, its soft brown eyes open but unseeing, the body turning cold. A flood of Force energy had rushed into Starkiller as he slaughtered the clone. It still lingered in his hands, a tingling numbness. The feeling was eerily familiar, as the clone’s Force signature had been so similar to his own. But rather than put him off, it felt good.

He wasn’t sorry.

He was energized from the kill, noticing neither the rain nor the cold. Although it was odd, seeing the death mask of his own image. Starkiller was quite used to death, having dealt a lot of it himself, but this was different. Not frightening... but very strange. He felt a cool, morbid fascination, and an itching curiosity for more.

“I lied when I told you the cloning process had not been perfected,” Vader said, standing next to Starkiller and sensing some of his emotions through the Force.

Starkiller glanced up. “So I see, Master.”

“You might have arrived earlier, my Apprentice.”

The young Sith shook his head slowly. “I was watching. That fool, the blind Jedi, wouldn't have let it kill you.”

Darth Vader was silent for a few moments, before turning to face his apprentice. “You have faced your final test.”

Starkiller bent to one knee and bowed his head. “What is thy bidding, my Master?”

Vader acknowledged him with a nod. "Come. We have much to discuss.”

Starkiller stood and followed Vader as they left cleanup to the Terror Troopers and walked back indoors.

Starkiller was dressed in his Sith robes and armor, a long black cloak with blood red inseam draped over steel-armored shoulders. His lightsaber was clipped to a silver double-belt above a dimly glowing control panel for the outfit’s invisibility generator. Undecorated steel forearm and shin guards were secured snugly against his sleek black jumpsuit. He had designed this ensemble himself, taking much inspiration from Vader’s suit.

They traveled in patient silence, Vader eventually leading them into a sparsely furnished office in an undamaged portion of the cloning facility’s main structure. Master and Apprentice took opposite seats across a table.

The young Sith watched as his Master sat down, noticing not for the first time how Vader’s heavy black armor allowed him no freedom to relax, even when he was safely indoors and away from the impressionable eyes of his inferiors. Starkiller often observed that Vader was wound quite tightly-- seemingly tighter than he needed to be to do his job. He did open up on rare occasions, but only slightly. It was the Dark Lord’s past, Starkiller suspected, that he felt the weight of, day by day.

They had that in common… but each addressed it differently.

Unlike Vader, Starkiller actually enjoyed his own emotional pain, in a way. Moreso than blind, broad hatred, the expected fuel for a Sith, the more personal pains made him stronger, focused his powers, and at the same time allowed him relief from worrying about the present. What was the fleeting discomfort of a blaster wound compared to the ever-present agonies of betrayal and loss? Using his anguish as a weapon was a good way to subdue it.

By nature, Starkiller was a wild card. Unlike the very controlled and restricted Vader, the Apprentice could handle letting his guard down for a while.

It was Vader’s presence that allowed such an attitude, and they both knew it. Starkiller was tied to Vader, and their unique bond gave him great strength. It wasn’t quite a sense of comfort or security, and it certainly wasn’t love... But it was something true and solid, paired with the knowledge that their connection could only be broken by death. And even then, it might remain. It had been tested thus before, after all.

If Sith could ever be loyal to each other, this is what it would feel like.

Starkiller relaxed as he sat across from his Master. His connection to the Dark Side simmered gently, at rest for the moment. He and Vader had both been very stressed the past few days, but now they had the freedom to pause and talk for a while.

Starkiller kept his Force presence mostly open to Vader, but he couldn’t shake a feeling of lingering discomfort that had made itself known when he killed the Galen clone. Something more had happened than an interchange of Force energy. But he chose to hide the feeling for the moment.

Sitting back in his chair, he watched his Master’s mask.

“I sense you have questions,” Vader prompted.

So Vader had sensed it, too. …And then Starkiller realized what had been troubling him.

The young Sith sat up a bit straighter, his eyes calm and direct.

“Only one: Did you play with it? The clone.”

Vader knew what his apprentice was referring to. His respirator hissed in, and out. “No.”

Starkiller quickly hid his unexpectedly strong reaction to that blunt answer. It suddenly occurred to him that he had been dreading this discussion since that feeling of apprehension had crept in like storm clouds over his head, when he killed the clone. But hearing the truth in Vader's response, he felt such relief... He had to work hard to not let the feeling show on his face or through their Force bond.

He took a slow breath, and then switched gears, hiding behind a front of indifference.

“...Didn't you want to?”

“I did not.”

Starkiller blinked. If his Master had admitted 'yes', then... well, Starkiller definitely didn't want to have to be jealous of a dead clone. But now that he was out of that danger, he could probe further.

“Why not? It was me... essentially. Only, less powerful than me. And it was completely at your mercy for months while I was absent... Why wouldn't you have played with it?” He asked, then was pleasantly surprised to see one of Vader's hands clench into a fist on the tabletop. He had struck a nerve.

"You assume much, my Apprentice,” Vader said, his tone still calm, but barely. “I _ never _ desired it. It wasn't a man... it was a thing. An experiment.”

“But a nice looking toy,” Starkiller pushed. Since he’d realized that thoughts of Vader and that clone had bothered him so much, he felt a brash, juvenile need to diffuse the situation by making things even more twisted and awkward than when they began.

_ Let's see how far I can take this _, he thought mischievously.

He held back a smirk as Vader's voice turned dangerously low. “It was _ not _a 'toy'. It was a clone.” Vader couldn't hide the fact that his apprentice's words were having an effect.

Starkiller enjoyed goading his Master. It was especially therapeutic whenever the young Sith felt vulnerable and wanted to switch things up. Playing with Vader’s temper was a unique thrill.

He was sure that Vader knew that he was provoking him intentionally, and even why, but the Dark Lord answered him sincerely.

Vader continued, “The cloning process was perfected... but it was never like you. I knew this one was trouble from the start. It was powerful, yes, and I should have watched it more carefully. I felt its strength in the Force... but unfortunately it was irreparably corrupted by its attachment to that female. Such a waste. It disgusted me... No, I never would have... 'played' with it.”

Starkiller finally allowed himself a smirk at that, his amber eyes gleaming. “I might have.”

Vader visibly tensed, a feat Starkiller had thought to be impossible.

“You know I would not have allowed that. You killed it. … All the better.”

Starkiller wondered for a second whether Vader had imagined him and the clone together, just then. He quickly searched their bond for any stray images, but Vader was a tightly closed book at the moment.

_ Very interesting. _

Starkiller would keep at it. He switched to an almost business-like tone. “Do you plan to make more?”

Vader relaxed a little and shifted slightly in his chair, a subtle motion that Starkiller had learned was the Dark Lord’s version of a sigh. “No. After such a catastrophic accident, I do not wish to risk another mistake.”

The Apprentice sensed an opening and leaned forward, smirking again. “Not even one for me to play with?”

Vader leaned forward as well, his fist on the table squeaking as it clenched. “Enough of this.”

“Just a weak one? …Not even Force-sensitive?”

“Enough.”

“Or we could share one, play around with it together--”

“I said _ enough _!!”

Vader's fist shot up from the table and the hand opened in a claw, directing the Force to curl around his Apprentice's neck and silence him. The Dark Lord stood slowly, while using the Force to drag Starkiller up from his seat and lift him into the air. The young Sith could barely breathe, but he knew it was useless to claw at his neck. And he didn’t want to-- feeling his Master’s immense Force power being used on him like this was a wonderful sensation.

He had certainly meant to provoke his Master’s anger, but hadn’t realized he would get this clean, violent response. Being the recipient of all of Vader's attention made him feel so alive and important. It was delightfully personal, and dangerously addicting.

Adrenaline shot through his system, but he let himself dangle calmly and flashed a small smile down at his Master. It was a challenge.

“You dare test me? I will teach you your place, boy.”

At that, Starkiller suppressed an eager grin. His Master's words sounded deadly serious, but the Apprentice knew it was for show... mostly. Vader had accepted his little game, and now things would get interesting.

Starkiller was dropped to the floor unceremoniously, falling on his hands and knees, coughing and panting for breath. After a moment his head snapped up and he glared at Vader, his eyes flashing with anger... but through the Force he projected his excitement, and felt Vader respond in kind, though still rather closed-off. Starkiller would change that.

“My 'place' would not be by _ you _,” Starkiller stated, and stood up. He was into the role now, pretending to be the rebellious Galen Marek once again. Somewhat like how the clone might have acted, he fancied. “You might dictate my actions, but you can't truly control me.”

“Oh? Then you are powerful enough to resist my hold over you?” Vader said, and flung the table and chairs aside with a nudge of the Force. They clattered loudly against the wall.

Starkiller felt a rush of excitement at the casual display of power. Now nothing stood between them, and Vader took a threatening step toward him.

The young Sith held his ground, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He wouldn’t draw his ‘saber, of course, though its familiar weight rested at his hip. No, this game had a different set of rules.

His fiery eyes glared at Vader's mask. “Try me.”

* _ Gladly, _* Starkiller heard Vader's voice in his head, then the Dark Lord Force-pushed him up against the wall, pinning his limbs down.

The Apprentice struggled against the Force-bonds, putting more show into it than real effort. He was loving their game, and wanted to see just how far Vader would take it. He gritted his teeth and let out a low growl of anger.

Vader strolled to the wall, stopping just inches from Starkiller's trapped form. The younger Sith could hear and feel the hum of Vader's machine-burdened body, and the hiss of the respirator. He could see his reflection in the shining black mask.

“Not as enthusiastic now, are you, boy?” Vader's mocking voice rolled over him.

Starkiller's eyes narrowed. He decided to bend the rules of this game and push things just a little bit further. It was quite a risk, but the young Sith couldn't contain himself after such an exciting day. His manner turned back to his usual, and a cool smile spread across his face. “I wonder... Did you ever test.. _ it _, like this?”

Vader's black-gloved hand shot to Starkiller's throat. No more Force-choking... this called for something more personal. “_ What _ did you say?”

Starkiller’s eyes opened wide and he gasped, limbs twitching with excitement. He kept smiling, even though his breath and voice were restricted by the powerful grip on his throat.

“That clone.. hhgh.. I could see you, testing it just like this,” he ground out. “Gauging its... power, ah.. rending it.. to your will. Rewarding its... resistance... punishing obedience... then switching things, hhah.. around, whenever it suited you. .... To sate your lust--”

The leather glove on Vader's mechanical hand squeaked as his robotic fingers tightened harder around his Apprentice's neck, completely cutting off his air and his voice. Starkiller’s smirk started to falter as tense moments passed and his lungs began to ache. But he would keep pushing. He let his mouth hang open in a silent gasp.

* _ Yes, just like this... It would have been so easy for you, _ * Starkiller mused to Vader, now speaking through the Force, his tone like velvet. * _ It probably would've given in to you quickly, too, just like I did, the first time you-- _*

_ “Silence _!” Vader roared through the Force and aloud, flinging his Apprentice sideways. Starkiller let himself hit the ground heavily with a grunt, not using the Force as a cushion. He was high on Force-lust and adrenaline, and he wanted to feel everything.

As he lay on the floor on his stomach, panting and wishing he wasn’t wearing armor, Vader stalked over to him, and a hard black boot kicked him over onto his side.

Starkiller grunted and grinned through the pain. Vader knew that his Apprentice enjoyed the violent attention. The young Sith looked up at his Master, his eyelids heavy with arousal. He half-propped himself up with one arm. The Dark Lord towered over him, his stance unwavering in its strength. His black cape stretched down to the floor, nearly covering his glossy boots.

“Cease that smirking, you fool,” Vader snapped, and Starkiller obeyed, his grin falling into a focused gaze as he watched his Master's black mask and reached out with the Force.

He let himself freely express his anticipation and growing arousal, knowing Vader could already feel it. The Dark Lord knew why his apprentice wanted to play these games, and how they made him feel. And after the events of the past few weeks, culminating in the events of today, they both understood each other’s reasons. This was just what they needed.

The young Sith's entire being thrummed with respect, fear, and desire for his Master. Since the day Starkiller had fallen to the Dark Side of the Force and received his name, he had laid his feelings bare to Vader, knowing it was useless to try to hide them from the Dark Lord of the Sith. _ Nothing _ could be hidden from such a power. And when Vader had accepted and even returned his signals, they had formed their particular bond.

The young Sith felt Vader’s Force signature rumble with irritation, while growing steadily warmer with lust. He had allowed Starkiller his fun, and the game could be over now, if he chose.

“To your knees… Bow to me.”

Starkiller almost moved to obey automatically, but stopped himself for a moment. If he obeyed that order and ended the game, Vader would probably reward him... which could be very good. But if he resisted, continuing their play and acting like Galen... things could go differently. To take a chance and continue in his role, and bear the consequences... it was risky. Both choices had their possible payoffs.

In the end, though, Starkiller couldn't resist the thrill of danger. Knowing he wasn’t second to a dead clone, knowing he hadn’t become boring, and knowing his Master understood it all… He would play now. He could feel Vader’s Force signature heating, and he had to stoke the flames. Lust or fury, Starkiller wanted it.

His eyes flashed. “Never!” And he rolled to his feet, then rushed for the door.

“You _ fool _!” Vader called after him as Starkiller sprinted out of the room, cloak billowing out behind him. Instantly, the younger Sith knew Vader was on board. The Dark Lord could've easily used the Force to stop his Apprentice, but chose to let the play progress. It would begin with a chase.

* * *

Starkiller draped his hood over his head and jogged down stark white hallways, further into the huge cloning facility’s labyrinth of corridors. It was mostly deserted, the facility still in chaos from the rebels’ failed attack. The Apprentice activated his personal cloaking device, and needed only to use slight Force-suggestion on the few troopers and personnel he saw, to remain undetected.

He could feel Vader following at what could be called a leisurely pace. The Dark Lord was using only a fraction of his power. However, he was still gaining on his Apprentice slowly, and Starkiller fancied he could hear the familiar hiss of the respirator echoing in his head and against the surrounding walls. The pressure of the noise and the thrill of the chase only served to intensify his desire. In fact, it was slowing him down. Much of him wanted to just stop and submit, thinking of how good it might be to throw himself at Vader’s mercy… But he’d already progressed so far. He had to keep up the game he’d started. If he could prolong this chase further, the rewards would be worth it. Besides, it wasn’t often he got to play the prey, and it was very freeing.

Soon becoming exhausted without using very much Force to aid his flight, the young Sith concealed his Force signature as well as he knew how, and ducked down a darkened hallway off of the main paths. He waited for Vader. Hopefully he would remain undetected as his Master passed him, and then he could double-back.

It was barely a minute before he heard Vader’s heavy footsteps nearby. The Dark Lord’s respirator hissed like a snake, and Starkiller sensed a wide field of Force energy swirling around him, warping the air, reaching out in tendrils, searching for his Apprentice.

Starkiller crouched in the shadows, hiding beneath his invisibility. But that meager camouflage wouldn’t fool Vader for a second-- he also had to use every ounce of his Force powers to better conceal his presence as Vader walked close by.

“I can see that you’re remarkably good at shielding yourself. But that is also your giveaway… I know your signature, and I can feel the Force null that you’ve created. It’s clinging to you like a stench.”

Starkiller shivered. Vader’s voice reached inside him and fed the flames rising in the pit of his stomach. And his Master was a true artist in his use of the Force. It called to the younger Sith, a siren’s song of darkness. He tried to compress the feeling, knowing Vader was giving that effect on purpose, knowing that Starkiller’s Force signature would shine out like a beacon if his shields fell even a little.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. It was so difficult that he reacted physically-- ruining all his efforts, he let out a soft grunt.

In the blink of an eye, Vader was upon him, swooping down like a bird of prey. A cold, black-gloved hand curled gently around the back of Starkiller’s neck, and the contact broke his local invisibility field.

He was caught.

“A decent attempt. But you still have much to learn… my Apprentice.”

Starkiller’s resolve crashed down; the game was over. He could now feel Vader feeding off of his remaining Force energy as punishment for his mischief, and though it exhausted him further, it felt so good. He felt his Master reaching deep into his Force well, unchecked, delving into all of the energies and emotions that he had experienced today, and lingering uncomfortably long on the power he had received upon killing the clone. It was Vader’s way of teaching him a lesson while also expressing his appreciation.

A chill ran down Starkiller’s spine and he heard himself groan. The hood of his cloak slipped off as his head tilted back against Vader’s hand. It felt like the cold glove was sapping the heat from his body as quickly as it grew. And Vader really was draining him, stealing his giddy Force energy, slowly and sweetly. He became dizzy before The Dark Lord’s power... it made him deliciously weak. At Vader’s touch, he was robbed of the strength and the will to continue playing. His fiery ambition was replaced with a frantic, reckless desire. This was confession time, when Vader had stripped him of all his smirking and posturing. He was raw.

“M…Master, please--” he whispered, his voice breathy and pleading.

“Silence.” Vader ordered. The mechanical gloved fingers caressed Starkiller’s neck, then slid around to his throat to tile his head up gently. “Kneel.”

Starkiller nodded, his mouth slightly open, in a daze. He fell to his knees in front of the Dark Lord, his head level with Vader’s codpiece. His back was nearly against the wall in this narrow, darkened corridor. His arms hung loosely at his sides, though they itched to touch his Master.

“You will not run from me again, my Apprentice,” Vader said, and Starkiller heard satisfaction in the voice. Vader had perfectly understood their game, but it was decidedly over. His words weren’t a question or an order; they were a statement of truth.

The Apprentice swallowed, his eyes fluttering closed as a wave of Force suggestion from Vader rolled over him to emphasize that statement, with a side effect of making him ache with desire. His body responded eagerly to the stimulation, and he struggled to speak.

“Wh… what is thy bidding.. m-my Master?”

Vader’s respirator hissed in, and out. The familiar sound made Starkiller get goosebumps at times like this. It was the sound of power, fear, protection, danger, and sex. Everything he had always hated and longed for.

“Remove your robes.”

Starkiller bowed his head and began to remove his cloak, armor pieces, and jumpsuit. His hands were shaking; his Force powers were drained. But in a moment he felt Force tendrils curling gently around pieces of his armor and helping to pull them away, and then removing the jumpsuit underneath. At last he only wore a sheer, skin-tight black bodysuit that covered his whole body except for head, hands, and feet. Aside from regulating his temperature and wicking away sweat, the silky bodysuit reminded him of his Master, just that little bit of restriction against his body, making him feel stronger and more focused in battle.

Starkiller reveled in the feeling of his Master disrobing him. This wasn’t the first time Vader had done such a thing, but it was rare that it went slowly enough for Starkiller to feel the details. Vader’s Force-touch could be so fluid and beautiful. In addition to everything else, Starkiller was overwhelmed by the physical sensations of now being next to naked, while Vader was fully clothed and armored.

“Mhh…Master, I…” Starkiller began, fresh sweat shining on his forehead as his temperature rose.

“Silence, my Apprentice,” Vader ordered softly. His gloved fingers brushed over the young Sith’s open mouth. Starkiller whimpered and kissed at the fingers, leaning into the touch. Vader’s other hand moved to the back of Starkiller’s neck, petting him gently.

“You’ve done well today,” Vader said. Then through the Force, * _ You remain… vital to me, my Apprentice. Do not jeopardize your position. _*

The young Sith nodded. He glanced up at his Master’s mask as he started to suckle at a black-gloved thumb. Then he slowly ran his tongue along it.

“Good…” Vader drew out the word, and directed tendrils of the Force to slip underneath Starkiller’s bodysuit.

The Apprentice groaned and swayed on his knees as he felt Vader’s Force-touch directly against his skin. He slumped backwards against the wall, tilting his head back in surrender, and feeling it being cradled in Vader’s powerful hands. The slick gloved thumb smoothed Starkiller’s own saliva across his bottom lip, and he took it into his mouth again, sucking on it and swirling his tongue around the tip. Vader’s Force tendrils felt similar; slippery velvet ropes snaking under his bodysuit and caressing his skin, curling around his arms, thighs, torso, and neck, everywhere but where he wanted them most. It was a wonderful agony.

“Mhhh-Master,” Starkiller breathed as he opened his mouth around the thumb, and pressed the side of his face against Vader’s open palm. The cold leather against his cheek and the other cool glove caressing the back of his neck were more comforting than any imagined warmer touch. Starkiller started to pant as Vader now slid his thumb rhythmically over his tongue, back and forth, and rubbed the Force tendrils soothingly and maddeningly against his body. The Apprentice could feel himself getting painfully hard, his erection straining against the tight fabric of the bodysuit. He shivered at the thought of what he must look like as Vader played with him.

The Dark Lord certainly noticed his Apprentice’s growing discomfort, and then Starkiller was startled into a yelp as a Force tendril tightened viciously around the base of his erection.

Starkiller’s body snapped to attention, arching backward, and Vader’s thumb slipped out of his mouth before he gritted his teeth.

“Nngghh! ..M-Master..!” the young Sith groaned, opening his eyes and giving his Master a pleading look. The pain felt wonderful, but it still hurt. Vader stood over him, in complete control. Starkiller probably could’ve come just from that thought and the gloves and Force tendrils before, but now he was prevented.

“Master… please,” he breathed, and then closed his eyes again and whimpered helplessly as Vader’s gloved hand continued to caress the back of his neck, and the Force tendrils continued to tease him. He shuddered at the contrast of restraint and pain at his groin, and more soothing touches elsewhere on his body.

The Apprentice sensed movement from Vader, but kept his eyes closed. He heard a soft rustling of fabric, and then a click of hard plastic falling to the floor. A mild smell of metal and clean sweat reached his nose. And when the hand at the back of his head pushed him slightly forward, he knew what to do.

Starkiller opened his amber eyes, finding Vader’s cock inches from his face. It was full and hard, jutting out boldly from folds of thick black fabric, the protective codpiece having been dropped to the ground. The flesh was pale and unmarred except for several strips of flexible metal alloy that ran along the shaft, embedded into it. The tight foreskin was pulled back, uncovering the darker head. A flexible metallic catheter kept the urethra open a couple of millimeters, letting out a steady leak of clear-colored, artificial lubricant.

Starkiller moved forward, immediately taking Vader’s shaft into his mouth. His tongue laved at the tip, lightly scraping against the edges of the catheter. The hot length twitched in his mouth. The artificial precum was sweet and Starkiller felt himself wondering if Vader had purposefully made that little modification to his cyborg biology.

Starkiller didn’t waste much time with teasing. He knew what Vader liked. He relaxed his throat as he bared down on his Master, feeling the large, gently pulsing organ slide easily past the point of gagging, and a little down his throat. He stayed still for a moment as he reveled in the feeling of Vader being inside his body, then he swallowed, making the silky smooth insides of his throat and mouth contract around the shaft.

Vader’s hand squeezed the back of his neck, though the Dark Lord stayed perfectly silent, his respirator still hissing at a controlled rate. The hand slowly pushed Starkiller forward until his nose was pressed hard against the fabric at Vader’s groin, and the head of the shaft was pressing hard against the back of the younger Sith’s throat. Starkiller shuddered, and then gasped in surprise as the Force tendril around his own cock lessened its painful grip slightly, and instead began to jack him off slowly and tightly.

The young Sith moaned as Vader pulled his head back, then grunted as he was shoved forward again. Starkiller took a second to tap his teeth against just the metal alloy on the underside of the shaft. He was rewarded by a brief shiver... And then the Dark Lord started to thrust into his mouth in earnest. He held firmly onto the back of Starkiller’s neck, moving his Apprentice’s head along with his sharp, deep thrusts, each one causing the Apprentice’s jaw to ache and the back of his throat to spasm with suppressed gagging. Starkiller barely felt the discomfort, however, as his and Vader’s Force signatures began to melt together, sharing sensations.

Vader’s Force tendril on his Apprentice’s cock moved to the same rhythm as his thrusts, making the two points on Starkiller’s body burn in simultaneous pulses of violent pleasure. It started to put him in a trance, and he felt his hips thrusting up on their own, as well as his neck muscles working to move along with Vader’s thrusts.

There was no need for words or gestures or sounds of encouragement. The Dark Side of the Force enveloped them, and Starkiller could feel that they were both nearing climax as Vader began to move faster. The Apprentice let himself go completely, giving himself over to the Dark Side and to his Master, letting all the sensations he felt pass through their bond.

Vader also shared his experience, which was a wonderfully strange sensation as Starkiller felt vaguely like he was fucking his own mouth. His body was entirely pleased with that idea, and he felt deliciously embarrassed as Vader sent deep, dark pleasure and amusement back through their bond.

* _ Come for me, my Apprentice, _ * Vader’s incredible voice whispered in his head. Starkiller obeyed whole-heartedly, his entire body tensing, hips bucking at his release. Pleasure exploded through the Force and washed over him and his Master. He felt himself spurt hot, sticky seed against the inside of his bodysuit, just as Vader’s cock gushed thick, sweet-tasting lubricant down his throat. They shuddered in unison, each shooting several times before finally relaxing.

Vader slid himself out of his Apprentice’s mouth, and pulled his hands and Force-tendrils back as well.

As Vader’s touch left him, Starkiller slumped back against the wall, panting. His whole body was limp; he was completely drained. He vaguely noticed as Vader used the Force to clean himself up a bit and arrange his robes and codpiece neatly again, as if nothing had happened. Vader left Starkiller alone, though, and the young Sith could feel his Master’s lingering pleasure at the sight of his debauched Apprentice; sweaty, messy, helpless, and nearly unconscious at his feet.

“Mhh… ” Starkiller breathed softly, his heavy eyes rolling up to search his Master’s impenetrable black mask.

“Quiet now,” Vader said.

And then, the deep voice echoing in the hallway and in his head, “Sleep...”

Vader’s voice washed over him like a shadow, warm and dark, and heavy with Force suggestion. Starkiller’s brow furrowed, and he barely had time to protest with a soft, “Nhh…” before his eyes closed and he slid sideways to the floor.

Vader knelt down and picked up the local invisibility generator from the pile of Starkiller’s robes. He fastened it around his Apprentice’s waist, then turned it on.

Starkiller’s body seemed to shimmer for a second, before appearing to melt away from the waist. It wasn’t a perfect cloak; it hid his bodysuit better than his flesh. Some shadows and odd warping of the light, like through water, were still visible. But with a little help from Vader, it would easily fool any non-Force-sensitive.

The Dark Lord used the Force to levitate his invisible Apprentice into the air next to him, and let him float a few inches in front of him as he began walking in the direction of the hangar, leaving the discarded robes and armor behind.

* * *

Lord Vader walked out of a small, dark corridor, and into the cloning facility’s largest indoor hangar, which fortunately hadn’t been too badly damaged by the rebel ship crashing from orbit. Its gigantic domed ceiling was hundreds of feet high, with many bridges and platforms cutting through it at various levels. It was even big enough for smaller tie-fighters to fly around in, though none were there at the moment. Staff was thin after the catastrophe just hours before.

With the invisible, unconscious Apprentice floating in front of him, Vader headed towards an unusually large tie-fighter that waited at the end of a wide platform. It was one of Vader’s personal carriers, and one he’d been careful to keep secret from Sidious. Its name was the _ Avant _ , and it was large enough to be equipped with its own lightspeed drive, state-of-the-art navigation and weapons systems, and contained five separate rooms, including a cargo hold loaded with nonperishable supplies. The _ Avant _ was designed for lengthier journeys, and Vader kept it ready at all times in case of emergency. In wasn’t easy to conceal such a thing, but thankfully he still had underlings loyal to him that weren’t in direct contact with the Emperor.

A few troopers and officers were standing along the section of the hangar near the _ Avant _, organizing teams to be assigned cleanup and recovery since the crash. Nearly all of them watched out of the corners of their eyes as Vader walked to the end of the platform and his ship responded to his Force presence and lowered its ramp.

Vader then turned and walked towards one of the groups of troopers, and no one saw the cloaked body floating up the ship’s ramp behind him.

“Attention!” called the one officer amongst the group as Vader approached them, and they formed a tight line before he reached them.

Vader nodded towards all of them and the troopers saluted, while the officer bowed.

Vader turned to the officer. “I am leaving on an intelligence mission. I have plans to meet up with a squad of specialized forces en route to the last known location of the rebel’s second-most well-equipped carrier. I trust everything is in order aboard my ship?”

“Yes, Lord Vader,” the man answered, nodding stiffly.

Vader had never met this officer before, but right away he could see that the man knew who he was, and was terrified of him. Vader was used to such reactions, and it could actually help him in this case.

“Before I leave, I have more information for you. The man responsible for the attack on this facility may still be at large here.”

The officer’s face paled, his already frightened eyes widening a bit more. “Sir?”

“I encountered him not an hour ago, and he managed to escape my attacks. Then as I traveled here from the east terrace on the second level, I noticed a pile of discarded armor and robes in a darkened corridor. Upon closer inspection, the articles seemed to have belonged to a Jedi. If he is still alive and in hiding somewhere in this facility, he may be cloaking himself. He cannot be allowed to sneak around under our noses and gather intelligence for the rebels. I want him found before news of this incident reaches the Emperor’s ears.”

The officer swallowed in a dry throat. The only being in the galaxy who frightened him more than Lord Vader, was Emperor Palpatine.

“Yes, Lord Vader. At once. I will organize a search-and-capture party right away.”

Vader held up a warning finger. “Not capture.”

“…Yes, sir. Understood, Lord Vader,” the officer said, still sounding terrified, but pleased. If the fugitive was who he was thinking of, that Jedi wizard had killed hundreds of troopers and officers, a few of them his colleagues. He would be happy to find that filth and throw him in the torture rooms for a few weeks before having him executed.

“I leave it in your hands,” Vader said, then he turned and walked back to the _ Avant _, up its ramp, and closed it, pressurizing the ship for departure.

The Dark Lord found the invisible body of his Apprentice on the ground in the narrow hallway just outside the cockpit, and he stooped down to switch off and remove the local cloaking device. Starkiller didn’t stir from his Force-induced slumber.

Vader stored the device in a compartment in his quarters, then walked back to the cockpit, stepping over Starkiller’s body as he went.

He sat down in the pilot’s seat and initiated takeoff procedures. The _ Avant _’s top-of-the-line engines hummed to life, and Vader piloted it out of the hangar manually, into the rainy atmosphere, then punched it up through the thick clouds and into a high orbit.

Vader accessed the _ Avant _’s navigation controls and input the coordinates for the last known location of the rebel fleet. He had been telling that officer the truth… mostly. But from here, Vader had a slightly different plan.

The _ Avant _spun gracefully in space, and Vader looked out of a side window at the cloud-covered surface of Kamino. He seemed to admire it for a moment before the lightspeed drive kicked in, shooting the vessel into deep space.

* * *

please comment and let me know if you loved it or hated it.  
xoxo


	2. Part 2: Affair with the Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continuing this story quite a few years after writing the first chapter.   
now it's even more fucked up! 
> 
> hope you enjoy.

Darker Side Part 2:

**Affair with the Void**

  
  
  


* * *

Starkiller was first aware of the cold, then of the fact that he was naked and lying on his stomach. His arms were folded and bound behind his back, the position leaving his face to press against the grimy metal grate that served as the prison cell’s floor.

He realized he’d been in this position before.

The smooth hiss of Vader’s respirator reverberated in the heavy air and brought him to alertness. That sound was both familiar and terrifying. Vader was nearby but remained out of sight, watching him suffer quietly from the shadows. 

He tried to shift his body and look around, but his legs were also confined, slightly spread apart and chained to the floor. His bare skin stung from being pressed against the metal. 

“M...Master,” Starkiller breathed, voice weak. He was used to Vader handling him like so much cargo, but maybe he’d expected to be treated a little better after what happened in the hallway. 

Was he still being punished for crossing a line with all the talk of that clone? In the end, had he not fulfilled his mission and deserved a rest? He wouldn’t question aloud, knowing it would only rile Vader’s temper further. 

There was no warning before Starkiller felt something push against the cleft of his ass. It was a cold, hard rod of some kind that spread the taut muscles of his rear and pressed up against his pucker.

“Ah… No!” Starkiller heard himself protest, jolting away from the intrusion, with no success. He was trapped. The object began to push inside his body mercilessly, stretching him wide with no preparation, though Starkiller felt that the object was at least oiled. He cried out as an inch of the strange, ice-cold rod was buried in him. 

“Hhhn! Master, no, please! Please stop!” Starkiller begged. His voice was hoarse, like he couldn’t get enough air to speak properly. He reached out with the Force, but felt Vader blocking his every move. He’d never felt this powerless before his Master before. Was he drugged?

“You will yield, my apprentice,” was Vader’s rumbling reply. “Submit to me.”

Was it Vader himself, or a torture droid controlling this object? It had an irregular cylinder shape, and several ridges along the length that stretched him unnaturally, threatening to tear. The unyielding shaft pierced deeper than Starkiller thought his body could endure. Cold radiated from it and soon his insides felt like ice.

He clenched his teeth as he felt Vader suddenly standing over him, and the Sith’s black gloved hands grabbed his hips and pulled backward, jamming the object impossibly deeper--

  
  


“Ahh!” Starkiller yelped as he awoke, scrambling upright.

He was sweaty and panting. It took several moments for him to return to reality.

The dream had been startlingly realistic, like a vision or a memory. He’d experienced vivid illusions similar to that before, but this time the feelings lingered after waking, and it felt as if his body still hurt numbly from that unknown object’s intrusion. He also noticed with a grimace the erection tenting the front of his bodysuit, rubbing uncomfortably against the dried mess from earlier. 

Looking around, Starkiller surmised that he was onboard one of Vader’s private vessels, the  _ Avant _ . He’d only been on this ship a handful of times before, as Vader usually rode along with larger convoys of Imperial ships. It sounded like they were currently in hyperspace, and Starkiller wondered how long he’d been left on the floor just inside the entryway.

Reaching out with the Force, he sensed Vader’s presence in the cockpit nearby, though the door was closed. The Dark Lord’s mind brushed against his, hot and powerful.

*  _ You slept well. _ * Vader commented, his rich voice ringing in Starkiller’s head, full of warm energy and a hint of amusement. He was in a good mood.

Starkiller rose on wobbly legs and headed to the ship’s refresher to clean himself.

He figured that Vader had found a way of manipulating his dreams. Had that been a warning of what could happen if Starkiller failed to perform to Vader’s standards? 

The Sith apprentice needed no such tools of motivation. He would allow Vader into his mind in whatever way the Sith Lord wished, and he’d find a way to enjoy it if his Master allowed him to.

He emerged from the ‘fresher and dressed himself in a loose white tunic and tight black leggings. It was a rather revealing civilian outfit that he would never wear outside, unless Vader requested it for a special occasion. 

The Dark Lord would play with his apprentice in their spare time, but on most missions he was all business. Starkiller had to bide his time and resist the urge to rendezvous with his Master while performing as his secret assassin. Open battle with the Rebellion was becoming more frequent and dangerous, so the two of them acted accordingly. 

Here in hyperspace, with no chance of interruption, Starkiller felt wonderfully free. He and Vader usually traveled separately, often billions of lightyears apart, sometimes with all communication cut off. For months at a time, he wouldn’t know if his master was alive or dead. Those were the worst missions.

But this time, he had Vader all to himself until they reached their destination. He planned to enjoy every minute of it. This trip would be his reward for dealing with that errant clone.

The messy affair on Kamino had been something new and unexpected. But it wasn’t wildly out of character for Darth Vader. 

The Sith Lord was famous for starting several wars, slaughtering tens of thousands, cloning entire armies, and defeating Jedi and rebel fighters with minimal effort. All while drawing from a well of ancient, powerful energy.

It seemed like nothing was beyond Vader’s reach. Starkiller doubted that even Emperor Palpatine would have gone so far to achieve all the wonderfully terrible things Vader had done.

“Master,” Starkiller greeted softly as the cockpit doorway slid open for him. 

He sat on the floor next to Vader. There was a co-pilot’s chair on the other side of the tiny room, but Starkiller preferred to sit by his Master’s feet, playing the role of pet that he knew Vader liked.

He didn’t bother asking where the ship was headed, or what his next mission might entail. All would be revealed in time, and he would do whatever was required.

Vader’s gloved hand slipped over the pilot seat armrest to squeeze the back of Starkiller’s neck. Starkiller closed his eyes reverently and felt a smile tug at his lips. The Dark Side whispered to him that this was right, that this was his place. 

His life belonged to Vader. He was the most ferocious dog a Sith Lord could ask for, unflinchingly loyal, bound by something much deeper than love. 

He wouldn’t simply die for Vader... He’d do anything for his Master.

“Tell me of your dream,” Vader ordered, gloved fingers casually massaging his neck.

Starkiller’s pleased smile faded, and his cheeks heated with embarrassment before he could suppress the feeling. The dream was soaked in shame, an emotion he thought he’d banished years ago.

“I… dreamt of you,” he admitted carefully.

“Go on.” Vader was suddenly unreadable.

Starkiller swallowed in a dry throat.

“See for yourself, Master,” he supplanted, opening his mind and memory to his Master’s Force awareness. The Dark Lord could easily read his mind, so why make Starkiller tell him in words?

But Vader didn’t look into his head. He grasped Starkiller’s bare bicep and tugged his apprentice to stand upright. 

Starkiller was made to sit on his Master’s lap, legs spread apart across armor-clad thighs, facing the control panel of the ship. His heavy-lidded amber eyes watched the stars sail by as they travelled through hyperspace. He could faintly see his and Vader’s reflections in the plasteel, glinting in the dim smears of starlight.

Vader’s respirator hissed in, and out. “Tell me,” he ordered, his tone controlled but warning. 

He kept his prosthetic hand on Starkiller’s shoulder, while his flesh hand trailed down the front of his apprentice’s abdomen.

Starkiller let his eyes flutter closed, forgetting his words for a long moment at the unusually soft touch. 

“You… you had me chained in a... torture cell. I was lying naked, on my stomach.”

Vader’s hand dipped lower, cool gloved fingertips barely brushing against the front of Starkiller’s tight leggings. His other, robotic hand pulled Starkiller’s arms behind his back, holding his wrists together in an immovable fist.

“Go on.”

Starkiller’s breath hitched as the plasteel hand pinned his wrists like a vice. How many had died by that artificial hand?

“You were punishing me for something. I’m not sure, but... I felt you... use something on me,” he recalled with a grimace, even while his growing arousal strained against the supple leather. Just the lightest touch of Vader’s hand, and he was already so hard...

Vader loosened the ties of his leggings and pushed them down abruptly. But the questing fingers didn’t touch his erection as it was exposed to the still air. Instead, Vader’s flesh-and-blood hand slid down to the cleft of his apprentice’s rear, slipping between the cheeks and pressing two gloved fingers lightly against his opening.

Starkiller felt wonderfully raw and weak, much like in the dream, and it was coupled with a state of fear that kept his body poised for action, nerves over-sensitized. 

He pushed back against Vader’s hands, his back arching slightly. His body was moving on its own. Vader hadn’t been this gentle or exploratory since… he couldn’t remember. It was a new kind of torture. Vader’s warm, comforting form behind him felt much too hot all of a sudden. The Sith was playing with his mind and his emotions, then reflecting his sadistic pleasure back onto his Apprentice, like a mirror reflecting a laser blast. Even knowing this, Starkiller was powerless to stop it. Vader’s Force presence felt like the blade of a ‘saber hovering beside his bare neck, almost too hot to endure, but he couldn’t fight now, or risk losing his head completely.

“Continue,” Vader urged. The dry, plasticy surface of one gloved finger was pressed harder against Starkiller’s puckering hole.

“Y-you… put something-- ah!”

Starkiller gasped as Vader forced the dry digit up inside his body, probing gently deeper, then curling to almost brush it against his prostate. _ Almost. _

“It was…” The younger Sith whimpered, arms twitching against Vader’s solid hold. “It wasn’t… like this. It was so cold… and much too large, and...”

The gloved finger retracted, and then a frigid metallic weight pressed up against his hole.

“W-what is--!” Starkiller tried to turn and see the object, but Vader held him firmly in place. The object was well-slicked with oil, just like in Starkiller’s dream. It worked just inside his pucker, stretching painfully. The searing pain was less paralyzing than the dream, but only by a slim margin.

His hips twitched and he bit back a whimper as the involuntary movement sent a jolt of agony up his spine. This was too much—!

The rod’s strange, asymmetrical texture distorted the tight ring of muscle obscenely as it pushed deeper inside him. Starkiller grit his teeth and held back a cry of pain, trying in vain to relax his muscles as Vader pressed the object into him. He was unprepared, and the oil did little to ease the pain as it filled him steadily. 

It was Vader doing this to him, claiming his body with something slick and hard and filling. He couldn’t deny that he craved it even through the pain and fear. 

The rod took several long, aching moments to warm with his body heat. The numbing cold faded and allowed him to feel everything in greater detail.

When Vader started thrusting it in and out, raking it mercilessly over his prostate, Starkiller almost screamed, letting out a yelp before biting his lip. Vader began to fuck him with the object, terribly slow, making Starkiller writhe on his lap.

“You’ve wanted this,” Vader observed, pleasure clear in his voice just as it radiated through the Force. “It suits you,” he purred.

“Please, Master, the pain—”

“You have endured far worse.”

“W-what… what are you using on me?”

“My lightsaber,” said the Dark Lord.

“Auhh.. n-no, that’s…” Starkiller stuttered. “You wouldn’t…!” 

Lightsabers were the closest thing Sith had to something sacred. 

Vader wouldn’t be this careless with a tool of such power… would he? 

Flashes of memory assaulted him. One moment he was standing next to his Master on the command deck of an Executor, the next, the Emperor had ordered him killed. Vader’s saber had pierced through his gut, and then he was thrown about like a ragdoll before being hurled out into the vacuum of space. 

Vader assured him that had been done to cement the appearance of his utmost loyalty to the Emperor. But it was still a near-death experience filled with pain and heavy with betrayal.

Their unbreakable relationship, the deepest bond between Master and Apprentice that they now shared, had blossomed from those terrible wounds. 

Vader let him squirm, not stopping his assault. The pain and fear were keeping Starkiller’s orgasm at bay for now, but it was starting to feel better and better. 

“Master please, don’t do this--”

“You think I shouldn’t use such an elegant tool of destruction on your dirty hole? But this is more than my lightsaber. It’s an extension of me, and you have wanted it. You’ve desired it since the day I knighted you as my Apprentice.”

The words rang with deafening truth and vulgarity that he never expected to hear from Vader’s mouth.

“When I cut you down, even while my blade was still sheathed inside you, I felt our bond flare with your longing. You know it to be true.”

“M-Master…” Starkiller gasped. He could feel Vader’s aura churning all around them, shadowy energies roiling violently like the seas covering Kamino. The Dark Side was calling out to them in the void, thundering with approval.

“I did not rebuild you those many times just to have you question my motives. Not now, not ever.”

_ * You can feel it is right. For a while now, you’ve wanted more from me. More than I could give you on my own,*  _ Vader whispered in his mind.  _ * You want to be filled to your very core. I don’t have to look into your mind when you’re practically broadcasting it to the stars. * _

“L-lord Vader, Master, please don’t indulge such visions, you wouldn’t--”

“ _ I would _ , with my thumb over the ignition,” Vader said menacingly. 

The threat went straight to Starkiller’s groin and he was painfully hard again. 

Vader shifted in his chair slightly, making Starkiller wince and then gasp as Vader found a better angle to rub one particularly sharp edge of the object against his prostate. The pain and pleasure were overwhelming, bringing tears to Starkiller’s amber eyes. 

Vader thrust the tool in and out shallowly as Starkiller’s body convulsed up and down on his lap.

“Master, please,” the apprentice breathed, a paranoid thought suddenly rising that Vader had brought him along on this ride just to kill him again. It would be so easy, and not even leave a mess… 

Was that dream-vision really one of foresight, and did Vader also sense its prophetic nature? If it was true, then maybe not at this time, but later… Starkiller would find himself in that torture cell, and Vader would use him one last time before destroying him. Maybe that was his destiny, and this was just a trial run. The Dark Side laughed in delight at that theory. What a way to go.

Vader chuckled low and cruel as he sensed Starkiller’s outpouring of growing fear and desperation. He quickly twisted he saber hilt deeper and made his apprentice cry out.

“You’re becoming distracted.”

“No, no! Master I’m sorry, please have mercy,” Starkiller whispered the last.

“The Dark Side tells us that pain is strength. Mercy here would do you a disservice. I know your strength.”

Dark energy festered gleefully in Starkiller’s mind. He tried to calm himself, but Vader had him laid bare and squirming, like a fresh specimen pinned to a dissection tray. 

He had never feared death… except by Vader’s hand.

“You’re right to be afraid. I could destroy you at any moment,” Vader said.

Starkiller’s mind raced. The thought of Vader’s saber igniting inside him made him alternately ill and dizzyingly aroused. At one point he would have had enough humanity to feel shame at this, but no longer. His soul was in orbit around Vader’s, where it would remain for eternity if that was his choice. He knew this would follow him even after death.

“Please, Master,” he whispered desperately.

Vader twisted it again. “Ride it,” he commanded softly. 

Starkiller was already quite hard despite the pain, and even though he was now terrified that any erratic movement would cause Vader’s thumb to slip, his conditioned body couldn’t resist the Dark Lord’s direct order. He began to move, gingerly at first and then with more purpose as he lifted himself up and down on the saber hilt. He angled his hips to let it glide against that nerve bundle more shallowly than before, coaxing out the pleasure. 

“Yes,” Vader hissed, then through the Force, *  _ Come just from the hilt of my blade inside you. _ *

Starkiller gasped. Vader’s enjoyment of his raw fear and extreme pain was amplified and projected through the Force. It was all too much, far too quickly. He moaned as the promise of bliss welled up inside him. In a few more moments Starkiller was dangerously close, the saber hilt buried deep. The metal was harshly unyielding, pressing right into his core— and then faster, faster, he grit his teeth, just hoping it wouldn’t ignite—

His body tightened around the saber hilt, clenching down greedily. Starkiller cried out, a choked and relieved sound as he came, shooting hard against his stomach and across the ship’s control panel. 

For a second, he didn’t know if he was alive or dead.

He felt Vader shiver beneath him, and knew the Dark Lord had been in his mind as he came. 

The hilt was still inside him after several seconds, and now that the pleasure bubble had burst, more urgent pain started to set into his drained body.

“We’re not finished yet,” Vader warned, though he did remove the hilt.

As soon as it was out, Starkiller breathed a sigh of relief. He would live for a while yet.

“My lessons are not lost on you, my apprentice.” Vader let go of his wrists, and Starkiller slipped off his lap, trembling legs barely holding. “Precisely why you are still here, and that... _ mistake _ ... is not.”

Starkiller pulled his leggings back on with shaking hands. When he was presentable again, he stood at Vader’s side and bowed his head.

“What is your will, my Master?”

“You will rest before we arrive at our destination.”

Starkiller blinked. “Yes, Master. But don’t you want me to...” his voice trailed off. He had been tortured but was at least allowed to come. He could still feel the Sith Lord’s deep arousal aching through their Force bond like a spring wound tight. He was eager to please Vader in a more direct way and ease some of that tension for his Master.

“Leave me.” Vader’s tone was flat. The moment lingered while his respirator hissed in, and out. 

Starkiller bowed mutely, and the cockpit door opened for him.

“You’ve earned this time aboard  _ The Avant _ ,” Vader added. “Use it to meditate and ready yourself for the full realization of our next goal.”

Starkiller left to do his Master’s bidding.

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  



End file.
